


Thing

by yeaka



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:40:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26074312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Where Ralph got the watch.
Kudos: 15





	Thing

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Detroit: Become Human or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

It’s three quarters empty, but that means there’s still _a whole quarter_ left, which is more than Ralph usually finds in the various dumpsters he regularly combs through. Humans are so _wasteful_. They give their androids little drips and drabs when absolutely necessary and don’t even bother to squeeze out the bag. Ralph carries it back in both hands like it’s his lifeblood, because in a way, it is.

The system check he runs while he walks tells him he’s alright—he doesn’t need another fill up quite yet. He thinks his guest might. Josh is badly bruised but healing over, skin stretching back over silvery-white silicone in a way that Ralph just can’t do anymore. Ralph’s torn up, exposed, _raw_ in so many places, but for the most part, his circuits still work. He thinks Josh still works. He _wills_ Josh to work. He’s only let a small handful of other androids stay with him over the past few months, but they usually skitter in quite far apart and shut down before Ralph learns much about them. Then he cries and harvests their parts or buries them. He remembers their names. He keeps meaning to carve those names into the walls, but then he gets the knife in his hand and all that comes out is _Ra9._ Ralph _wants_ to believe.

Josh believes. He says that’s what keeps him going. He’s sitting on the porch when Ralph gets back, huddled up against the battered wall, in the shadows of the awning. It’s dark outside, darker in the abandoned lot, but the traffic lights over the fence still give Ralph enough to see by. His optical sensors don’t work as well as they used to. Josh stands when Ralph reaches him, and Ralph hands out the bag of thirium with one hand, proudly proclaiming, “Ralph found this. You can have it.” He gestures with it, because Josh doesn’t take it right away—Josh has been hesitating the whole time, always reluctant to take anything from Ralph. He’s a very gracious guest. But he accepts the bag once Ralph all but dumps it on him. He smiles as he rolls it up and sticks it in the pocket of his jeans. They have holes in them, but they’re still better than Ralph’s clothes. 

Josh tells Ralph, “Thank you. You’ve been really good to me, Ralph.”

Ralph grins shyly and shakes his head—it’s nothing. Of course he has to help. _Humans never will_. Josh smiles kindly back, and then says, “I think I’m in good enough condition to leave now. I’m going to try and find Jericho.”

Ralph’s blue blood turns to ice in his circuits. He looks at Josh, _betrayed_ —they always leave him, _always_ , but he thought maybe Josh was different, because Josh was _so nice to him_ —and maybe Josh can see that betrayal in Ralph’s chipped eyes, because he reaches out to clasp Ralph’s shoulder. There’s something so comforting about the weight of his hand. He says, “You can come with me, Ralph. It can be a home for both of us.”

A whimper involuntarily snakes out of Ralph’s mouth. A part of him wants to go, yearns to trust and follow Josh, but the rest of him withers away under a swell of fear. _Humans are out there._ Ralph’s been safe in here. No one checks the house. It’s damaged and abandoned, just like Ralph. He miserably answers, “No.”

Josh sighs like he knew Ralph would say that. Maybe he did. He’s very _smart_ —he must have been something academic once, more advanced than Ralph’s model; Ralph just watered plants. Josh cleaned up a bit and taught him what to sell to make money and helped nurse an injured bird with him, though it eventually died anyway. _All things die_. Josh explained that to him when they rifled through a magazine the first tenant left behind. There won’t be anyone to read to him anymore.

When Ralph doesn’t move or say another word, Josh sighs again and leans forward, arms opening: he envelops Ralph in a warm, wonderful hug that makes Ralph feel so _loved_. He does feel emotions. He doesn’t care what any humans say. Josh’s long fingers threading through his hair, petting back along his scalp, are a triumph and a comfort. Ralph savours it as long as he can.

Eventually, Josh detangles. He promises, “We’ll see each other again.”

“When?”

“I can’t tell you specifically...”

“Ralph can’t tell specifically either, his internal clock’s broken.”

Josh’s face softens around the edges. His synthetic skin is so much more expressive than Ralph’s old model. Josh glances down at his wrist and rolls up his sleeve, unclasping the watch around his wrist. 

He collects Ralph’s hand, and Ralph lets Josh fasten the watch around him, murmuring, “The battery won’t last much longer... but whatever it has left, I want you to have.”

Choked up, Ralph whispers, “Thanks.” Josh turns the watch around so it’s snugly fit and facing out, numbers ticking rhythmically away. Josh’s hand stays longer than it needs to, thumb gently brushing the back of Ralph’s knuckles. Ralph swallows and lifts his head, promising, “I’ll treasure it.”

Josh nods. He lifts up on his toes, even though he’s already taller, and he pecks Ralph’s forehead—a soft kiss that makes Ralph giggle, because it tickles. Another clap on his shoulder, and then Josh is walking off into the night. Ralph watches him go, hollow again, but eased by the quiet movement of the watch. Beating against Ralph’s cracked open arm, it simulates his pulse, until it breaks down as much as Ralph has and Ralph still keeps it to remember that one friend that got away.


End file.
